


The Dream That Haunts Your Dreams

by Lost_Elf



Series: The King of Stone [5]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha Handsome Jack (Borderlands), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I did it again, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Poor Rhys (Borderlands), Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Tearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: Rhys is Handsome Jack's boyfriend. Yes,theHandsome Jack, the famous actor. Being a famous actor in this modern era means many things; for example – fanfictions. Rhys discovers this new world with fascination, and soon finds his favourite genre to be ABO. Meeting ABO in real life, however, doesn't end well for him.*****AKA, I was thinking how terrible it would be for a normal human to suddenly appear in the ABO universe with both the physiological and social differences. Poor Rhys got to be the main star of my experiment. HEED THE TAGS, THIS IS NOT NICE. Except for the ending, that's very nice, IMO. I wrote Jack to bethe king of stone, that kind of boyfriend who doesn't show much affection, because I just love this combination. Rhys is happy in the relationship; this is NOT a relationship angst.This work is a PROTOTYPE for the King of Stone series. The story is not canon, but I used the same Jack and Rhys. It would happen after the first TKoS work.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: The King of Stone [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752406
Kudos: 58





	The Dream That Haunts Your Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, heed the tags. The smut in this fic is pure, brutal rape. To add some numbers: first 700 words is background, then 1000 words foreplay, then 1400 is the action, and the remaining 1300 is comfort(ish). :) Enjoy!

Rhys knew dating a celebrity like Handsome Jack will require a lot of compromises and teeth gritting from his side. Not seeing his boyfriend for days, once in a while stumbling into a paparazzi while just taking out the trash, constant flashes of cameras when they go on a date or being forced to keep a low profile.

But it also had perks. Like the luxurious holiday house, expensive gifts, constant attention that Rhys, honestly, _loved._ He got used to the life as a partner of a celebrity. But this world always has some surprises.

The first time he stumbled upon a fanfiction about himself, he was shocked and disgusted. His opinion changed completely after reading the story (only 600 words). It was supposed to be a sweet short, but to him, it was a hilarious comedy. Imagining Jack trying to lamely woo him, blushing like a teenager and stumbling over his words… No. Just no. Too hilarious. Jack is a cold queen, and Rhys likes him just like that.

He forgot about the topic of fanfictions for a few months. In the meantime, they celebrated their two-year anniversary in style, throwing a huge party at their house and inviting other celebrities. Many photos, videos and stories were leaked to media that night, and there was a boom of fanfiction so huge it got mentioned on Rhys’ favourite news site. Of course, he had another look.

43 stories about him and Jack. That was… definitely something. Most of them were still just hilarious attempts to portray Jack as a big softie, but some took more interesting path. _Smut_ , as Rhys learned, was something wholly different. Some of those stories made his heart beat faster, and he bit his lips while thinking about them much later.

One of them had a Non-Con warning, which made him frown and put his tablet down. Enough reading for one day, he told himself. But of course, curiosity got the better of him, and fifteen minutes later Rhys picked it up again. He was disappointed. The story was about him and Jack being drunk, which definitely doesn’t scream consent, but it wasn’t the gory, scandalising action he expected.

The topic laid forgotten for a while once more before Rhys checked the site he found to have the most stories again. Only 5 new stories about him and Jack. He was about to put it away when he got an idea.

You see, Jack’s fandom is big. Why should Rhys only read stories about himself when there are thousands? He altered his search and let out a quiet whistle. 18485 stories starring just one of Jack’s characters. And more for other movies and series.

Rhys wasn’t unemployed, but he worked from home, and his work didn’t take up much time, so it wasn’t really such a problem that he dove head-first into the rabbit hole of fanfiction. He explored every corner of this brand new world. Especially when Jack flew to a different country for two months to shoot, Rhys busied himself with reading.

Soon, he started having preferences. Tags like Rough Sex, Dubious Consent and _Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics_ were his most common searches. The latest was… That trope fascinated and aroused Rhys in equal measures, and he was happy to explore the portrayals of such divided society as well as all the possibilities concerning sex. Like knotting. Oh, how many times Rhys jerked off to that fantasy…

Even after Jack came back and fucked him ten ways to next Tuesday, he couldn’t stop reading deeper and deeper into this new universe. And the worst thing was that when Jack eventually noticed his new “hobby”, he rolled with it. They bought more interesting toys and did some roleplays, some of them tiptoeing the borders of sanity, as they included a sex marathon and a few blue pills.

It all came to a peak one summer evening when Jack was on a week-long business trip.

Rhys just woke up from a late nap. He felt pleasantly rested, although hot. Pulling his t-shirt off, he paddled to the kitchen to get some water. In his sleep-addled state, he didn’t even question the twenty bottles of water in the fridge. They weren’t there in the morning, and Jack wouldn’t arrive home before midnight, but Rhys happily chugged down half of a bottle and took a pack of pretzels from Jack’s not-so-secret stash.

“You’re hot.”

He _squealed_ and jumped a few feet high, startled and for a second absolutely furious with Jack for sneaking on him like that. But then excitement wins out. “Jack! I thought your plane lands at eleven. How are you home so soon?” The idea that Jack took an earlier flight to surprise him makes him giddy. Yes, he’s alright with _Jack, the king of stone_ , but all those fics gave him ideas about soft lover Jack, and he’s not gonna complain right now.

The older man ignores his question, walking closer to press a hand to his forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

“No,” Rhys smiles fondly. Concerned Jack is also a great option. “I’m just a little hot. I’ve been sleeping.”

“This late?”

“It’s not like—” Rhys’ defensive retort is cut by a yelp as Jack suddenly pulls him forward by his wrists and all but _sniffs at his neck!_ “What the f—” This time, he’s stopped by Jack’s _growl_ as he wraps his arms around his waist and refuses to let the younger man go.

“You’re in a heat,” Jack concludes.

“Oh.” Suddenly, he understands. Jack probably decided that it’s roleplay time. Well, who is Rhys to deny his handsome boyfriend from a warm welcome? “Yes, I think that might be it. I probably need a—” His shyness betrays him. He’s not drunk or horny enough for roleplaying, he’s not an actor.

Jack lets out another growl that sounds too real. He must have been practicing that. “You need my knot,” he snarls. “I bet you are already leaking slick, your tight little hole clenching. You want it, right?” Something in his face turns soft, though he is still all sharp edge and deep frown. “You want your Alpha to take care of you?”

Rhys’ pants become too tight too fast, and he might be ashamed for how little got him all railed up, but Jack knows him so well. He lets him take the lead, mumbling answers. “Yes, Alpha, I want this. I want you so much!”

“Good little Omega,” Jack hums and suddenly picks him up, startling a yelp out of Rhys. “I’m gonna fill you up so well.”

The ease with which he carries him to their bedroom – as if Rhys weighted nothing! Jack works out daily to keep in shape, but he had never done this before. He throws Rhys in the middle of their bed that seems kinda big today and why are there silken sheets—

“Mmph!” Rhys’ thoughts come to a halt when Jack lands above him and immediately captures his lips in a hungry kiss that is all teeth. He also starts rutting against the younger man’s hips, obvious bulge in his slacks that seems really big today…

“Jack?” Rhys gasps when Jack moves his lips lower, nibbling and biting on his jaw and neck, shamelessly leaving marks. “W-wait, Jack! We hav— _oh!_ We have lunch tomorrow, remember? I don’t want to be covering hickeys— Aaah! _Ouch!_ ”

Jack bites his neck _hard_ in retaliation. “You aren’t goin’ anywhere, cupcake. You’re mine!” And he carries on with his marking. Rhys’ neck stings and burns, skin agitated and raw, and he can’t help a few whimpers. They never played this rough.

“Jack, wait please,” he pleads. “It hurts.”

That gets Jack’s attention, though it’s for the worse. “That’s the heat, baby. But don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

Without further ado, Jack pulled his shirt and sweater off at the same time and then kicked off his slacks and boxers. It gave Rhys a minute to look around, frowning when he noticed more than one thing in their bedroom being out of place, but before he could give it a deeper thought, he noticed something much more disconcerting.

Jack was fully hard, but what was between his legs was… huge. This wasn’t Jack’s cock (to Rhys’ extensive knowledge). But it looked way too real, too. Except that it was _12 fucking inches_ long and as thick as Rhys’ wrist, and definitely not a toy but a real fucking part of his boyfriend’s body.

“What the fuck?!” Finally admitting that something is _very_ wrong, Rhys scooted backwards on the bed, away from Jack. But the older man only took it as a game, and he pulled him back by his ankles. Rhys didn’t yet start kicking and fighting, but he knew his resolve will break soon. Jack tugged at his shorts, and that was as good of a reason as any.

“Stop it!” he snapped, smacking Jack’s hands away, but the other man didn’t even blink. Not even when he tried to pull his hands away from himself or wiggle from under him. “Jack, stop this, I don’t want this. I don’t know what’s going on!” His voice got whiny as he got close to tears. It’s been a long time since he last cried, but it was also a long time since he was so scared.

“That’s just the hormones, Rhysie,” Jack cooed as he finally managed to untangle Rhys’ shorts and underwear from his legs. “You’ll feel better once you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

Shaking his head furiously, Rhys tried to back away once more. He wanted to scream for help, but he knew that the garden around their house was expansive enough in every direction so none of their neighbours would hear him. All he could do was fight and try to make sense of things.

Jack proved to be the stronger one on many occasions in the past, and he seemed even stronger today as he effortlessly rolled him on his stomach and pinned him down by sitting on his thighs. “Show me how much you want it,” he said sweetly, and it would be insanely hot if he wasn’t ignoring his partner’s shaking and begging for him to stop and talk.

Rhys tensed up when Jack’s finger prodded at his ass, letting out a relieved huff when it was quickly withdrawn.

“You’re not wet,” Jack noted in confusion.

Groaning, Rhys almost screamed. “Of course not! Stop this game, Jack!”

But Jack ignored him again. “Guess I’ll have to help you out a little.”

If Rhys was naïve enough to think that it means lube, he would be scolding himself now. But he already knew where this was going. He cringed as he felt Jack’s tongue at his entrance, something absolutely disgusting. It felt good, but he didn’t like to do that, especially knowing that Jack won’t hesitate to kiss him afterwards.

He tried to brace against the good feelings this was causing, because he needed his head to remain clear. What the hell is going on? Is this even Jack? They have the same scar on the bridge of their nose, but that _thing_ … And the strength with which he held him down so Rhys couldn’t squirm away, gripping his hips almost painfully. This couldn’t be his Jack, right?

All thoughts evaporated from his head when Jack pressed two fingers into him with only saliva for lube. The burn was almost too much, and when Jack started stretching and scissoring the fingers, Rhys whimpered, fighting against tears in his eyes. He only got vague soothing sounds from Jack.

“Still nothing?” Jack asked after a few minutes of the ministrations. “Are you alright?”

“Are _you_ alright?!” Rhys snapped back, voice whiny but the loathing in it palpable. “Jack, this is… This is rape. I don’t want this. _Please_ , stop.”

The older man gives him a long contemplative look. But then his attention goes to a bedside table. “Lube,” he says, already reaching out.

At some point, fight or flight kicks in, and Rhys finds himself kicking Jack in the side and scooting away. But before he can even reach the edge of the bed that really seems longer than usually, Jack is on him again, growling and biting his neck. “I’m begging to lose my patience here, kitten,” he warns him as he covers one hand in lube.

Rhys snorts joylessly, riding out the rest of his faux courage in the form of adrenaline. But as three fingers are pushed into his ass without warning, stretching him unbearably wide, he breaks and lets out a quiet sob.

“Shh,” Jack soothes behind him, occasionally licking his neck, as if – as if Rhys had a fucking _bonding gland_ there! “It’s alright. I’ll make you feel so good, baby. Real soon.”

The younger man can only shake his head, worried that if he opens his mouth now, he will cry and won’t stop. Jack pulls his fingers out, spreading lube on his length, that, by the sound of it, is still monstrous.

“Please,” Rhys whimpers. “Jack, that— That won’t fit. You need to prep me more. Please…”

“Shh, it’s alright, I’ve got you,” Jack hums, positioning himself at Rhys’ now slick hole.

Forcing himself to take deep breaths, the younger man tries to relax as much as possible. He still screams when the head of his partner’s dick – if it’s even his partner – pops in, stretching him more than he ever was. First tear rolls down his cheek, followed by another, and he is sure that they’ll never stop, because he’ll be forever stuck there, humiliated and stretched almost to the point of tearing.

Jack pushes further mercifully slow, but that doesn’t stop the burn, awful stretch and _pain_.

“Please, _stop, stop, stop!_ STOP!” Rhys screams until his throat is raw, and then some more until his voice gives out. His arms and legs flail uselessly as he tries to find enough purchase to pull away, but Jack keeps a firm grip on his hips, pulling him back onto his dick. “Stop, stop, stop…”

“It’ alright, babe,” Jack coos. “Just a little more. You’re doing great. We’re almost there.”

Was Jack going to push the whole damn thing into him?! Rhys was sure that should kill him, that it would tear him open or bruise something vital, but strength slowly left him, and he couldn’t fight anymore, reduced to a sobbing, trembling bundle of pain.

Pressure that could as well be a knife at the top of his stomach and Jack’s heavy balls resting against his ass told Rhys that Jack actually did it. He soothed him for a while, reminding him to relax and take deep breaths. But he wasn’t patient enough, all the while rutting against his ass, sending jolts of pain from Rhys’ abused rim and stretched guts to the rest of his body, until even his teeth hurt from the awful intrusion.

Another _gonna make you feel good_ only serves as a warning, and Rhys has a second to brace himself as Jack starts moving within him. At first, it’s only couple inches and a sharp thrust, but Jack doesn’t waste much time building up pace. Soon, he is thrusting long, hard and deep, eliciting a scream out of Rhys witch each move.

It feels like his internal organs are being rearranged, pushed around and squished. It’s only a miracle that Rhys didn’t tear so far, or maybe he did, but he didn’t notice over all the other pains. There is a wet spot under his face from tears and drool, but he can’t bring himself to move his head.

It goes on forever, or feels like it. The numbers on Jack’s digital clock on his nightstand keep changing, but Rhys can’t make them out from his angle. Jack pounds into him tirelessly, never slowing down. At some point, Rhys’ throat is too sore to let out even the smallest whimper, and he can only pant and tremble. The pain turns dull as his body grows tired, and he can now feel the drag of cock within his insides, deeper than it’s ever been.

“Gonna cum for me?” Jack rasps behind him suddenly. He pulls his hips up a little and reaches around to fist his limp cock. “How many times did you cum already?” he muses with a chuckle as he starts stroking him in the exact way that usually has Rhys curling his toes. Of course, it doesn’t have the desired effect at first, but Jack doesn’t falter, nibbling on Rhys’ neck, murmuring dirty things into his ear, nuzzling his shoulders, until nature wins over and Rhys gets hard.

“Want me to time it for you?” Jack offers, but Rhys’ croaked _please, don’t_ makes him change his mind, speeding up his pace instead.

Rhys welcomes the small rush of hormones from his forced orgasm, though it’s nowhere near nice or satisfying. It makes him forget for a split second as he tenses under the familiar weight of his boyfriend and sighs. But the oblivion dissipates when Jack murmurs _good Omega_ into his ear and starts thrusting harder. Adrenaline allows the younger man to briefly try to pull away, but he’s stopped by strong hands pushing him into the mattress. The rest of his afterglow is ruined for good when he feels Jack get _bigger_ inside him.

“No…” he breaths out, realising what’s about to happen, “no, please, don’t. _Please, don’t_.”

With every thrust, the base of Jack’s already monstrous cock gets wider, catching on Rhys’ abused rim until it finally tears. He screams, not knowing where he got the energy to do so but putting everything into it anyway. It feels like Jack doubled inside him, but he keeps thrusting, pulling out and forcing the knot back in until he can’t pull out anymore, not for the lack of trying.

Jack groans as he reaches his orgasm, rutting against Rhys ass and filling him with a hot liquid. The young man would note how awfully much there seemed to be if he wasn’t busy blinking white spots out of his vision and breathing through pain as Jack’s knot grows even larger, his torn insides stinging and pulsing with pain. This doesn’t feel as good as he imagined. There is no warm feeling of being filled, just pain and the urge to move away from something that he can’t possibly escape.

Jack’s cock keeps pulsing, occasionally spilling more come into him. When Rhys’ stomach feels like bursting from the amount of liquid, feeling noticeably inflated, he lets out a whimper that he immediately regrets.

“Are you with me, Rhysie? Good. I want you to remember our bonding.”

He can’t even panic before Jack is licking at his neck and then biting down so hard he breaks skin, teeth sinking into meat easily. Blood flows down over one pale shoulder in two streams as Rhys passes out.

When he wakes up, blinking into darkness, he panics. Memories come flooding into his mind in no particular order, confusing him and frightening him even more. It’s not until he realises that he doesn’t feel any pain that he stops and re-evaluates.

He’s hot all over, almost boiling in his t-shirt and shorts. Except for a cooling spot in his crotch.

Rhys groans, then screams in frustration as he realises that he came in his sleep while having a fucking nightmare. He doesn’t even feel good or relaxed, the fear from the dream lingering. He closes his eyes against the shame, feeling his eyelids stick together as he probably also cried in the sleep, but laying on the bed in darkness has memories of the dream overwhelming him, and he sits up abruptly.

“Lights on,” Rhys chokes out, for once very happy for the home assistant AI that constantly listens to them and probably sells all their personal data to every corporation in the world. All lights in the room slowly light up, leaving him a few seconds to get used to them before growing in intensity.

He knows that he’s being irrational, but Rhys just has to look all around the room, making sure everything is where it’s supposed to be, and the dream is truly over. He sees, now, how ridiculously impossible it was, but even the memories still feel real.

After taking a short shower and disposing of his sweat-damp and ruined clothes, putting on Jack’s sweater – something he doesn’t do often, because Jack is not a fan of sharing clothes, though he never complains openly, only gives him annoyed side-glances – he still feels like shit. His chest clenches, and heart feels like bursting even though his heartbeat is only slightly faster than normal, his hands are shaking, and eyes keep darting around the room, looking for danger that never even existed.

 _Anxiety_ , his mind supplies an explanation. It’s ridiculous, Rhys is never anxious. It was just a nightmare. But it just doesn’t go away, and he has to accept that he won’t be able to go back to sleep unless he does something about it.

Although it’s almost midnight, the house is still warm and outside is not much better, so the thought of a warm tea or hot cocoa is not much appealing. Rhys goes for a glass of scotch and ice, the next logical thing to do to calm one’s nerves. And Jack has a lot of good stuff in his little bar, so it’s not like he will have to force himself to drink it.

Sitting in the living room with all the lights in the house turned on, sipping on a strong alcoholic beverage, Rhys still doesn’t feel well. By the time his glass is empty and he is left with melting ice, his hands stop shaking, but the tightness in his chest prevails.

Sighing, Rhys reaches for his phone, dialling his boyfriend’s number. He picks up after two rings, mumbling ‘ _sup_ and yawning.

“Hey, handsome,” Rhys teases a little, his mood instantly better once he hears a familiar voice that sounds much more real than the one in his recent memory. “How long till you are home? Did the driver pick you up yet?”

“Yeah, I’m in the car,” Jack answers over another yawn. He must be really tired from the travelling. Rhys hopes he didn’t wake him up, worrying a lip between sharp teeth. He listens as Jack knocks on the glass barrier in the car and asks the driver when will they arrive, and then conveys the answer to him. “Ten minutes tops. You’re still awake? It’s almost half past twelve.”

“Yeah,” Rhys sighs, hesitating. “I… I had a nightmare and it woke me up.” He leaves out the part about not being able to go to bed again and being an irrational, anxious wreck.

“Oh. Okay. Okay then, see you in a few.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Rhys hangs up and eyes the phone for another minute. He doesn’t know what to think, honestly. He didn’t expect anything from Jack, knowing well that he just isn’t into the gentle, caring lover stuff. It’s not like his lack of emotional reaction or an attempt to soothe Rhys hurt the younger man. He’s probably just too spoiled from all those stories.

Speaking of which, Rhys opens the app he uses for reading and deletes all his bookmarks, wipes history and deactivates his account.

Just as he is finishes, he hears the front door open, the electrical lock singing a short tune as Jack punches in the unlocking code on the other side. He truly didn’t stint on their security. Rhys mentally slaps himself for ever feeling unsafe in this bunker of a house.

“Hey, babe,” Jack speaks behind him, causing him to jump. Sometimes, not even years of practice are enough against the master of startling Rhys to death. “Enjoyin’ a late night drink, hmm?”

Rhys nods and lets Jack take the glass from his hand and loudly slurp the cold water mixed with traces of alcohol. “Your favourite? You are spoiling yourself,” he chuckles and returns the glass. “‘m gonna take a quick shower and go to bed.”

He’s gone before Rhys can say anything. No questions, no voiced concerns; heck, Jack probably didn’t even notice that the usually talkative man didn’t say anything. Strangely, it’s all the comfort Rhys needed. Jack recognising a brand of scotch from just a trace of it on the glass but not recognising emotions. That’s his boyfriend, and not some ridiculous nightmare.

Sleepiness finally reaches Rhys, and he puts the glass away and waits in their bedroom for Jack to leave the bathroom, because the older man hates not being alone while taking a shower or brushing his teeth. Once he is done, Rhys brushes his own teeth quickly, using mouthwash to chase the taste of alcohol away, and joins Jack in their normal-sized bed.

“‘ights off,” the actor mumbles as soon as he feels another weight join him on the bed, and Rhys repeats it with a chuckle clearly enough for the AI to actually catch it. All lights in the house go off save for the digital clock.

Rhys turns on his usual side, away from Jack and the clock, already drifting to sleep. He feels and hears some shuffling behind himself, assuming that Jack is finding a more comfortable position on the bed than laying with an arm covering his eyes, but then he startles as he feels an arm sneaking around his chest.

Jack pulls him back with his usual careless strength, sneaking the other arm under him and squishing him against his chest like a child hugging a teddy bear. He presses an awkward kiss to his hair and then huffs, relaxing.

“What the hell, Jack?” Rhys asks with unconcealable amusement.

“What?” The other man sounds genuinely confused by his reaction, and he doesn’t let go.

“Why are you hugging me? We never spoon like that. We never spoon!” He has to muffle chuckles, not wanting Jack to think he is laughing at him.

“Am I not supposed to do this?” Jack asks, pressing another kiss to the top of his head and humming when he feels Rhys shiver and relax. “You said you had a nightmare…”

Laughing openly now, Rhys comes to the obvious conclusion. “Did you find this on the echonet?”

Silence. “Maybe.”

“I can’t believe you,” Rhys snickers and snuggles closer to his boyfriend, intent on taking advantage of the treatment. They’ll both be too hot soon, but he never cuddled with someone like that, never felt the desire to, and he wants to try it out. “I love you,” he adds between snickers, probably just confusing Jack further.

The man behind him huffs. “Shut up and go to sleep,” he grumbles, kissing him for the last time before falling asleep like on command.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ElfWriting). :)


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